


Deleted Scenes from Marauders No. 2 (2019)

by NotQuiteHydePark



Category: New Mutants (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Australia, Australian Slang, Clubbing, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Metafiction, Pirates, Shoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21540067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotQuiteHydePark/pseuds/NotQuiteHydePark
Summary: Reading between the panels of the comic; loving it for what it is, and poking it for what it's not.
Relationships: Emma Frost/Scott Summers, Kitty Pryde/Illyana Rasputin, Kitty Pryde/Rachel Summers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Deleted Scenes from Marauders No. 2 (2019)

“Why are we going to Taipei, reckon?” Pyro asks Kate.

“One, first Asian nation to make same-sex marriage official. Two, there’s some international law stuff where Taiwan isn’t party to some major agreements because of the two China problem. Three, great seafood. Four, I am so tired of Madripoor stories I could scream.”

“Fair enough, mate,” says Pyro.

“I’m your captain,” Kate says. “You’re my mate.”

“You don’t have to get all up in my face about it, fitto,” Pyro says.

“I’m not sure that’s the way Australians use the term ‘fitto,’” Kate responds mildly. “Are you actually Australian? Can I see your drivers’ license? No, the real one. No, the real real one. No.” 

Kate reaches into the pockets of Pyro’s uniform and withdraws his wallet without asking. Then she puts one gloved finger to her lips while holding the wallet open in her other hand. “Potomac, Maryland. I should have known.”

*

“I would appreciate it,” Sebastian warns Emma, “if you would not play games over the vacant Red Throne.”

“Didn’t I kill you the last time I saw you?” Emma asks Sebastian, pursing her perfect red lips.

“I got better,” he shrugs.

“You’re still terrible, though,” Emma answers. “And you still have mutton chops. Hang on a minute.” A telepathic word balloon with some words highlighted in red suggests that she’s receiving a thought from Scott.

“Jean and Logan confirm my availability Thursday night,” he’s saying. “Of course I have 30 other plans for when we could meet up if that plan falls through. Logan still can’t believe you and I are a thing again.”

“Did he use the word ‘insatiable’?” Emma asks, telepathically, smiling. Sebastian looks at her and has no idea why she’s smiling. Or maybe he does, and he’d rather not say.

*

Cell phone screen with a close-up of Illyana’s face. “You’re sure it’s the right kind of club for you. Even without me,” she’s saying. “You’ve never been to that kind of club without me, have you? Or have you?”

“I wish I could take you. I’m gonna go out and have fun.”

“Kate, have you been drinking?”

“Pre-gaming, Illyana. I’m fine. I’m having fun.”

“I’d be worried except—“

“Except what? Don’t worry about me. I’ve been through space on a magic bullet forever and I’ve been held captive by writers obsessed with fake pregnancies and I’ve been an assistant principal. I can survive a night on the town without you.”

“I know. I just miss you,” Illyana says.

“Storm will be there to protect me.” There’s a comic edge in her voice, lovers teasing the way they can when they’re been together, off and on, for so, so long.

“If you’re taking Storm to a gay club she’s not going to be looking after you. Woman has people to do and things to see.”

“I can take care of myself, Illyana. I miss you.”

*

Kate obviously can’t take care of herself, unless “take care of yourself” means “work with all your might to eradicate your sobriety.” But she is having fun in the club, dancing close to a girl who appears to have gone out dancing in lingerie, until she realizes that Lockheed has landed on the girl’s head.

“#$@%!” Kate exclaims. “Lockheed, get over here. How many times have I told you not to land on anybody’s head—especially not a new friend’s head—without enthusiastic consent?”

The girl in lingerie, her belly button showing, her fear replaced by curiosity, turns to Kate. “They’re yours?”

“Lockheed’s actually a binary dragon and takes he/him pronouns,” Kate says. “But yes, and I shouldn’t have taken him out to the club tonight. I’m a little impulsive nowadays, and he’s a good friend.” Lockheed emits a harmlessly small jet of flame.

“No, I mean the people behind you. The guy with the goggles, the naked guy covered in ice—he seems to be having a bit too much fun—and Storm from the X-Men. I’m a big fan of Storm. Have been for years. She’s an icon. But why is she hanging out with those guys? They’re creepy. He really needs to put some clothes on. Even a jockstrap would do.”

Kate blushes and wants another drink and can’t think of what to say, though she nearly says—it’s a thought bubble—“I know, right? Bad judgment. Can you believe I used to go out with him? What on Earth was I thinking?”

She sees Bobby. He's kissing a guy. She's not kissing a girl. Rather than make a cruel joke at his expense, Kate looks around to get out of the conversation, deciding she can pretend to see a long-lost friend. Instead, there’s Lucas Bishop.

"Heeey, Bishop," she says.

*

Radio studio, two hosts with headphones, seated, seen from the back, with a map of Australia covering half the studio’s glass window. A full page for this one, but with small panels inset down the right hand side for the faces that go with the dialogue to come.

“Australian Broadcasting Company, Chris and Sheila in the morning. We are live on the air with Gateway of the X-Men. Gateway? Is that the name we should use for you?”

“It’s the name I’m known by, Chris, and always has been.”

“You’ve been in the public spotlight periodically since the 1980s, Gateway, representing Australian first nations to readers of superhero stories around the world. Yet we’ve never spoken with you before. How has your experience been teaming up with all those American mutants?”

“To be perfectly frank, Sheila, it’s been awful. They talk a great game about overcoming stereotypes but when they’ve worked with me it’s been nothing but ancient mysteries, Dreamtime, inscrutable primitive magic, that kind of [bleep]. I have a master’s degree in statistical geography, and without it I’d be teleporting them who knows where and they could end up in the Gulf of Carpentaria half the time, but do they ask me how I learned to do this kind of thing? Not often, they don’t. I’m just the mysterious black dude who doesn’t talk and does yoga and gets them where they need to go. I don’t think they ever treat Illyana Rasputin that way. She’s not a taxi.”

“To be fair, they may be afraid she’ll cut them in half.”

“That’s not entirely wrong, but it’s not an answer. I co-wrote an avant-garde novel with Lionel Fogarty while the X-Men were off in San Francisco, I’ve been on NPR and RNZ and RTE to discuss developments in the new multicultural geography, and when the X-Men saw me again this year did they notice? Had they read it? Nooooo, they just asked me to teleport them again. I’m on the verge of quitting.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Krakoa is really cool, Chris. I want to stick around to see how it works.”

“Fair enough. By the way, are you glowing?”

“Do you mean why is my skin so pale today? I noticed that too. I think I’m just harshly backlit.”

“Got it. Thank you so much, Gateway. Next up on Good Morning Adelaide, it’s the guitar-pop outfit Youth Group, who are ironically middle-aged.”

*

“You sure about this?” Bobby asks Kate, making a ramp to get her easily from the pirate yacht onto the mainland. 

“Absolutely,” she responds, red coat over one arm. “I’m going shopping for some boots and then I’m burning my old ship.”

“You seem to have burned a number of your old ships,” Bobby answers. “I’m fine, but the rest of them—“

“Only the guys,” Kate answers. “Only the guys. Why men great till they gotta be great?”

“Lizzo? Really?”

“Truth hurts. Excuse me, that’s the cell phone in my coat.”

“Illyana or Rachel?” Bobby asks. 

She doesn’t answer. Instead she turns her back on him and the ship. “I’m not gonna sit around an island,” she tells the reader, “for the rest of my life watching you **guys** have all the fun.”

*

A luxury boot and shoe shop in London. Kitty walks through the shopfront door, literally through it; the shop clerks notice. “How can we help you?” one says.

Kitty looks around at a wall of flats, a wall of strappy heels, a wall of boots in burgundy and black and black-and-white and calfskin grey. “I’ll take everything in a size 8,” she says.

“Which do you want to try on first?” a still-shocked shop clerk answers, nervously tousling his hair.

“None of them,” she says. “Send them all to this address.” She drinks from a flask in her red coat. “Except for the gray boots. I’ll just wear those out of the shop.”

“Who are you?” he asks as she hands him a credit card.

“A former schoolteacher,” she says. “I gave everything to that school.”

“And now?”

“I’m the Red Queen, bitch.”

*

[handwritten on printouts]

Gerry—there’s a lot to like here but if we include all these scenes or even most of them, given that we’ve also got several pages Emma and Sebastian just arguing/ negotiating, that’s waaaay too many talking heads. Why don’t we see how many we can cut or save for implied? Also, can we get more action into this issue, since the slow-burn plot doesn’t involve a fight yet? Maybe a silly perennial villain of the week fight? Thanks—Jordan

Jordan—good idea. How about Batroc the Leaper? –Gerry

Gerry—yes! use Batroc. Be sure Matteo gets those high kicks on panel. They are ridiculous and sublime. Can you have him speak actual French this time, or is that too big an ask? Gotta catch the train and play the ukelele! –Jordan

*

[handwritten on printouts[

Tom, Gerry—The Hellfire Trading Company chart is cool but the three Bishop spaces confused me, especially in an issue with Lucas Bishop. Who’s next? Hawkeye? Are there gonna be rooks and pawns too? Also aren’t Christian Frost and Emma Frost secretly the same person? --Chris

Chris— Ssssshhhhh. Don’t tell. –Gerry


End file.
